


Third Time’s a Charm

by rachlovesligers



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24721882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachlovesligers/pseuds/rachlovesligers
Summary: Steve tries to propose to Peggy, but he can't quite get the timing right.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 20
Kudos: 99





	Third Time’s a Charm

**Author's Note:**

> This is my gift to meatyoakerhumanbeein for completing the STEVE workout challenge - congratulations on sticking to your goal! I loved your suggestion of 'inappropriately timed proposals', I hope you enjoy your reward :)

## First attempt

The small velvet box feels like it weighs at least a hundred pounds, pulling down his right pant pocket, where he used to keep his cell phone, in another life.

Steve is sure it’s making a noticeable bulge, but no one has glanced in that direction or made any comment about it. He wonders how the hell Peggy hasn’t noticed it, what with her hips pressed against his as they sway to the band’s slow number.

He wonders how she didn’t notice the last time he brought it dancing with them, or the time he put it at the bottom of their picnic basket when he took her to Prospect Park, or the time he kept it in the kitchen cupboard while he cooked her dinner.

He doesn’t have any doubts about wanting to marry Peggy—he’s known he wanted to marry her since 1945—and he’s fairly sure she’ll say yes. But after so many years of waiting, pining, after moving heaven and earth to finally get their dance, every moment Steve considers proposing just doesn’t seem… right.

Either that, or he’s just too chicken-shit.

Steve is pulled from his self-consciousness by the feel of Peggy’s head, resting down softly on his shoulder. His stomach flips in a way that should be familiar—considering how often it happens now—yet it still catches him by surprise.

He leans his head to the side just slightly, so that his cheek is pressed against Peggy’s soft hair. They fit together so perfectly, it’s still a wonder to him.

He breathes her in, their arms tightening around each other. Steve lets his eyelids flutter closed, even though they’re in a crowded dance hall. Being held by Peggy has a way of making him feel safe, at home even in an unfamiliar place.

He wonders whether this is the moment, finally. But he doesn’t think Peggy would want a public proposal, and quite frankly, neither would he. 

But perhaps he could pull her to the edge of the dance floor and get down on one knee? He doesn’t think too many people would notice. But what if she can’t hear him over the sound of the band? He doesn’t want to shout a proposal at her.

Or on the walk home? He could wrap her up in his coat and kneel down on the sidewalk. Although winter is setting in, and he’s sure he heard on the wireless that a frost is on it’s way. He doesn’t want Peggy catching a cold while he asks her the most important question he’s probably ever going to ask her.

Peggy tips her head back, and Steve smiles, knowing what’s coming.

“Kiss me, will you?”

Steve does as he’s asked, he can’t deny Peggy a damn thing, especially when her voice goes soft like that.

It’s late enough that no one’s paying them any attention, all loosened up from a night of drinking and dancing, so Peggy is more affectionate than she’d usually be in a public place. Her tongue slips into Steve’s mouth, slick and warm.

By the time she pulls away, Steve’s head is spinning. Peggy laughs at him and he doesn’t need to ask why as she reaches towards his pocket for his handkerchief. He wears her lipstick more than she does these days.

But as her hand snakes around his hip, he suddenly remembers the velvet box she’ll find if she reaches in his pocket. Steve wraps his fingers around her wrist, stopping her.

“I’ve got it,” he says as he digs the handkerchief out.

Peggy frowns as he scrubs at his lips and chin. He knows she likes to clean him up, just as he likes to do the same for her.

As she glances around the room, Steve gazes at her profile. He could wait until the walk home, he could wait until the next time they go dancing, he could take her out to Coney Island and ask her right on the boardwalk, but for the first time he realises how ridiculous he’s being by waiting for the perfect moment.

Every moment with Peggy is a gift he’d long ago accepted he would never have. What the hell is he waiting for?

Steve takes a deep breath and goes for broke.

“Peggy, I have something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

“Hmm? What’s that?” Peggy doesn’t turn to face him, her eyes are still darting around the room.

He clears his throat, his hands starting to shake.

“I was wondering, if you would—”

“Oh, _bugger!”_

Steve’s brows pull together. Not exactly the reaction he was expecting.

He turns to follow Peggy’s gaze and sees a man looking at her. As she stares at him as he gives a nod, a half smile, then starts to move towards them. Steve notices he uses a crutch.

“He’s seen us now, there’s no getting away,” Peggy mutters.

“You know him?”

Peggy doesn’t answer, instead she pulls away and swipes at the edges of her lips, not that it does much good, her lipstick is thoroughly ruined.

“Daniel!” She smiles as the man reaches them. “What are you doing here?”

“Peggy,” he smiles at her, warm and friendly, as his hand reaches up to smooth down his hair. “I’m here with a friend.”

His eyes linger on Peggy for just a little too long before he finally turns, regarding Steve with an uncertain smile. Things start to click into place.

“And this is...?”

“Steve,” Peggy answers quickly. “He’s my… dance partner.”

Daniel doesn’t look too happy with her answer.

He changes the subject, asking her about work, and it becomes clear they were colleagues. He asks her where she’s living now, if she comes here often, and Steve just stands at the edge of their conversation feeling like chopped liver.

When the song changes Daniel steps a little closer to Peggy.

“They played our song earlier,” Daniel says, and Steve feels his cheeks flush as jealousy hits him dead in the chest.

“Daniel,” Peggy warns, but he doesn’t take the hint.

“I could ask the band to play it again, if you want to dance?” The poor guy actually looks hopeful. Is Steve invisible all of a sudden?

“I’m sorry Daniel if I haven’t made myself clear. I’m here with Steve.” Peggy loops her arm through Steve’s, just in case her words didn’t make it clear enough.

“Right, got the message,” Daniel says as he steps back, his demeanour changing on a dime.

“It’s been nice to catch up with you,” Peggy adds. She sounds genuine, but she’s making it clear the conversation is over.

“Yeah, you too Peg.”

Steve doesn’t like the edge to his voice, and he definitely doesn’t like the guy using a nickname for Peggy.

The guy looks upset, and Steve wishes he would just leave already.

“Maybe Thompson wasn’t completely wrong about you.” Daniel glances at Steve, taking him in. “I heard through the grapevine that you got a pretty big promotion. Unheard of, for a woman in the field.”

He glances at Steve again, making it clear how he thinks Peggy got said promotion.

“You know damn well I got that job on merit.” Peggy’s voice is dangerously low.

Steve notices her fist is clenched, and realises he needs to step in before they make a scene.

“Nice to meet you… Donald, was it?” Steve claps his shoulder with a little too much enthusiasm, a false smile plastered across his face.

“ _Daniel.”_

Steve ignores him and turns to Peggy. “Will you take me home? I’m beat.”

Her shoulders soften just a little as she nods, and they turn to leave.

“See you around, David!” Steve calls over his shoulder as they head towards the exit.

Peggy is in a foul mood on the cab ride back to her apartment. Steve holds her hand the whole way, but knows better than to bring it up in front of the driver.

Suffice to say it’s not the night for a proposal.

* * *

## Second attempt

The dim lighting of the movie theatre helps give Steve a false sense of confidence. As he rubs his thumb back and forth over the velvet box in his pocket—an action that is quickly becoming a habit—he feels pretty calm about the whole situation.

The idea came to him a few days earlier, when Peggy had suggested they go see a picture. The movie theatre was one of their regular date spots, they would sit in the back row and test the limits of propriety. Sometimes they’d see a movie too.

Today was no different. They’d chosen a picture that wouldn’t be too crowded, then wrapped themselves around each other in the most secluded part of the theatre.

Steve has always loved going to the pictures, he loves being transported to another world, a world of singing and dancing and neatly tied up plot lines. But going with Peggy is a whole new experience.

He loves nothing more than tucking Peggy under his arm and kissing her for hours, uninterrupted, while Judy Garland or Gene Kelly serenades them. Which is why it feels like the perfect spot for a proposal. It’s more special than asking her at her apartment, but still intimate, not quite public.

Steve has waited long enough. It’s now or never.

He breaks off the kiss and pulls away just enough to look at Peggy. Her lipstick is wrecked, and even in the dim light he can see she has a blush on her cheeks.

He reaches to tuck a lock of silky soft hair behind her ear, and the moment feels like it has an electric charge. Their eyes are locked, lips parted, and Peggy is still slightly out of breath from the kiss.

Steve reaches down to grab the box in his pocket, not breaking eye contact. There’s barely an inch between their chests, and the heat radiates between them. It feels like the longer they drag this out, the higher the tension builds, and Steve doesn’t want to rush it.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a while,” Steve says slowly. His hand wraps around the box in his pocket.

“Oh?” Peggy says breathlessly.

“Peggy Carter, will you—”

But Steve’s sentence is drowned out by screams. They jump apart, eyes scanning the room for danger, but when no one appears to be making an escape Steve realises the cause of the screaming—they’re watching a horror movie.

He looks at Peggy, who’s had the same realisation. She laughs, takes a breath, and pats him on the knee.

The moment has gone, and so has Steve’s nerve.

“You were about to ask me something?”

Steve swallows. He doesn’t want to ask her like this.

“Will you lend me a dollar? I’d like to buy some popcorn, but I spent all my change on the tickets.”

It’s at least half true. Steve still hasn’t gotten back into the habit of carrying enough cash to cover everything he might need in an outing, and then some. He’s so used to having a credit card in his wallet.

Peggy digs into her purse and hands him some change.

“Buy me a cola, will you?” She says, giving his ass a pat as he walks past her.

He looks down at her, shocked that she’d be so bold in public, but her gaze is trained on the screen. There’s almost nothing in her expression to convince Steve that he didn’t imagine it, and then he notices the little quirk at the corner of her mouth.

The mood isn’t completely ruined. After they share his popcorn and Peggy’s cola, they get back to kissing. But every so often they’re interrupted by a chorus of screams, so Steve decides it’d be better not to risk another interrupted proposal.

* * *

## Third attempt

Steve’s had the ring for weeks now, and he’s fresh out of ideas. He doesn’t want to over-plan it, an elaborate proposal is neither of their style, but he wants it to be somewhat special.

The problem is, every date with Peggy feels special.

After two failed proposals, it’s starting to feel a little like the universe is conspiring against him, and Steve has come to the conclusion that asking Peggy in a public place is a bad idea—there are just too many variables.

So he settles on a private proposal—they spend enough time at each other’s apartments to provide plenty of opportunities. He takes to keeping the ring on or near him at all times, ready for the right moment.

The right moment finally comes on a Saturday morning. Peggy stayed the night at Steve’s place, and they both have the day off. They kept each other up most of the night, so they’re not in a rush to get up.

Steve wakes before Peggy and cuddles her close. There’s frost on the window, but it’s unusually sunny for the time of year. The light bathes the room in a yellow glow, and Steve is content to just lay there, watching the shadows shift as Peggy slowly wakes.

Eventually she stretches, and Steve loosens his arms to allow her some room.

“Will you put the kettle on?” She asks around a yawn.

Steve grins. They’re both bare, exposed from the waist up, and he’s sure Peggy is getting more beautiful each day.

The light bathes her as she stretches again and Steve loses his breath.

She takes his silence for hesitation. “I’ll make it worth your while,” she says with a smile, and reaches up to run the back of her knuckles against his chest.

Steve takes her hand, holding it to his skin.

“You don’t have to do anything in return. I like doing things for you.”

Peggy raises an eyebrow, he knows she’s being suggestive, but he’s on a course he won’t be derailed from. Again.

“I’d like to ask you something first, though.”

“Shoot.”

“Will you marry me?”

For once he catches Peggy off-guard. Her mouth opens and shuts, but she doesn’t respond.

Steve keeps their hands entwined as he reaches for the drawer in his night-stand and pulls out the velvet box.

It might have been smooth if he’d just let go of her hand to open the box, but in the highly charged moment he likes the grounding grip of her hand. So instead he fumbles, his hand a little shaky with nerves, and takes far too long to open the box one-handed, using his hip as an anchor.

The plus side is that it gives Peggy a minute to recover.

It’s only when he looks up to see her reaction that he realises his tongue slipped through his lips while he was concentrating, just like it does when he’s drawing.

She laughs at him, tipping her head back and squeezing his hand. He thinks that’s a good sign.

Peggy sobers and looks at the box in his hand. He tilts it side to side, just enough to get it to sparkle in the sunlight.

It’s not a particularly huge diamond, but it wasn’t cheap either.

Peggy takes a breath, then pins him with her gaze. She appears to have recovered from the shock, except the blush across her chest gives her away.

“I wondered how long it would take for you to ask me.”

“Is that a yes?” He’s not sure if he’s pushing his luck.

Peggy’s smile spreads wide, dimpling her cheeks, and Steve feels like his chest is about to burst open from the intensity of his emotions.

“That’s a yes.”

His lips are on hers before she can say anything else, and she kisses him back deeply, only pulling away to remark: “You’re supposed to put the ring on my finger, you know.”

She laughs when he dutifully pulls away and plucks the ring from its cushioning. His heart is racing as Peggy holds out her left hand expectantly. She’s not shaking at all, and Steve realises neither is he.

He slides the ring on her finger, the gold band contrasting nicely with her red lacquered nails.

“It’s perfect,” she comments, holding her hand out to admire it.

  
He’d tell her _she’s_ perfect, if it didn’t sound so corny. Instead he leans down to kiss her, his _fiancée_.


End file.
